Hungry for More: Romantic Fantasies for Women - just published! With stories by Tiffany Reisz, Greta Christina, D.L. King and more. 21 fantasies, from "Kitchen Slut" to a cougar to Craigslist sex to BDSM to bukkake to watching two men get it on, and more!

Saturday, May 23, 2015

It's been quite the week, so to celebrate the weekend and Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, here's a free excerpt from my story "Claws Out," inspired by actual claws I saw but never bought at Purple Passion. By the time I was able to buy them, they no longer stocked them! I can't find a good photo that does justice the ones I had wanted to buy, but if I do, I will post it. In the meantime, here's part of my story; read the rest along with 20 other creative, hot, sexy varied stories of sex toys in Come Again. Read more about "My Life as a Vibrator" by Livia Ellis and "Must Love Dolls" by Giselle Renarde from Come Again.

From "Claws Out" by Rachel Kramer Bussel

He only began to stir when she raised his hands above his head and twisted her panties into makeshift handcuffs around his wrists. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, Sleeping Beauty.” She ran the flat of her palm along his spine, down over the slope of one buttcheek, curving along his balls. She wanted to make sure he was, indeed, hard; otherwise the torment of keeping him on edge lost some of its appeal.

“That’s what I like to feel first thing in the morning,” she uttered as she reached beneath him and wrapped her hand around his stiff cock. John tried to buck into her touch, but she was too smart for that, and immediately dropped it.

“That’s not what your dick is for,” she snapped. His moan let her know he didn’t mind one bit; being used as little more than a phallic prop turned him on like nothing else. Okay, maybe not quite as much as her taking him to the edge of pain and keeping him dangling on the precipice. Celia grabbed the pouch before straddling his waist, making sure her wetness met his warm skin. If she wanted to, she could simply hump him until she came, maybe use a vibrator to heighten her pleasure. But she’d have no problem getting off later; this was about a more lasting kind of pleasure, the kind she got from making sure he knew he belonged to her, through and through.

Before she broke open the pouch, Celia decided to play good domme for a little while longer. She leaned over to the bedside drawer, letting her nipples brush against his back as she reached for the massage oil. “Just relax.” Those two little words could have multiple meanings—their simple, surface meaning, or their more twisted, sadistic opposite. She wasn’t above telling him to relax right before she pushed the lever on his nipple clamps higher, tightening them on his nubs, or before she brought a vibrator up to his balls. It was up to him to read her well enough to hear beyond the dictionary definition, to learn her body language even when he couldn’t see her. Only when he’d mastered that skill would she truly know he had long-term potential.

Celia warmed the oil between her hands, pausing to rub a little on her breasts, once again leaning down, this time to smear the warm liquid directly onto him. She added more, doing a sexy slip and slide before capping the bottle. Then she put her training as a masseuse to work. She’d done a stint as a massage girl, giving hand jobs but also true back massages; she’d been so good that the latter were what netted her the biggest tips.

Soon he was practically purring, putty in her hands—just where she wanted him. After digging her elbows into a few strategic spots, Celia stopped.

“Stay right there; I’ll know if you move.” She got up to wash her hands, and when she returned, she made sure to jingle the claws; the soft tinkling sound of metal on metal made him groan. “I have a surprise for you, because I take good care of what’s mine, don’t I?” When all Celia got was a moan, she pinched the tender skin at the back of his neck. “Words, darling, use your words.”

“Yes, you do. You always know what I like.”

“That’s more like it. Now relax; this will only work if you don’t tense up.”

Then she put the claws back on, transforming herself into what she considered her own version of Catwoman. She didn’t need to dress up; the claws were all the costume she desired. With them on, she was a fierce woman with a weapon, one she chose to use for their mutual pleasure.

She waited until the only sound she could hear was John’s heavy breathing. She shifted so the full weight of the warmth between her legs pressed down against him, then, steadying herself with her left hand on his upper back, she traced the tips of the claws from the nape of his neck on down. With barely any pressure, they still had a profound effect, if his breathing was any indication. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked, before sinking them just a little more firmly into his soft, pliant skin.

“Oh my god,” he sobbed, his body shaking as she made identical pink lines down his back. Celia had expected, to some degree, how turned on he would get, but the claws seemed to be working just as much magic on her. With each stripe she left on him, a corresponding jolt of excitement crept from his body back into hers.